The first thing to say about the 1369 Jazz Club is that the music was terrific; a lot of hits and not many misses. The second thing is, it felt right—it was an honest-to-god jazz joint. Third thing, its closing seriously diminished the local jazz scene. “I’m not keen on ‘Best and Worst,’ wrote Fernando Gonzalez of the Globe in his 1988 year-end wrap-up, “but the closing of the 1369 Jazz Club in Cambridge easily qualifies as one of the worst events of the year.”
Flyer for Jay Brandford Septet at the 1369 Jazz Club, June 1987; map shows club’s approximate location.
A bit of introduction to this well-remembered place: The club was at 1369 Cambridge Street, in Inman Square, on the corner of Springfield Street. It first opened in January 1976, and closed in August 1988. It presented live music nightly for 13 years, and built an ironclad relationship with the local jazz community in the process. During its last five years, under the management of Jay Hoffman, Bob Pollak and Dennis Steiner, the 1369 was the finest jazz club in the Boston area.
All this music happened in quite modest surroundings. The 1369 Jazz Club didn’t look like much from the street, just a corner bar housed in a building dating back to the 1910s. There wasn’t anything fancy about it inside, either. Bar to the right, tables to the left, stage at the back, with the rest room behind it. Sometimes patrons had to squeeze around musicians while they played in order to use it. The white tile wall behind the bar had a gouge in it, left when a customer threw a bottle at a bartender, but missed. It was smoky. It got crowded. It was sinned-in. Gonzalez again: “It was just a great place to hear music.”
So let us explore the 1369’s story, especially those last five years, the ones Gonzalez mourned as they passed. (Quotes following are from my conversations with Hoffman, Pollak, and Steiner.)
Inman Square: Jazz on the Cambridge Frontier
There wasn’t much happening on Inman Square when brothers John and Rick Merrigan bought the Gaslight Pub in January 1976, and renamed it the 1369 Jazz Club. Inman Square was, literally, the low-rent district when compared to Harvard Square, or any entertainment district in Boston. There wasn’t much music around then, either. Their only musical neighbor was the rock-oriented Inn-Square Men’s Bar, although a friendly competitor, Ryles, would open in November. A well-known blues club, Joe’s Place, had burned down in 1974.
The Gaslight Pub had a reputation as a brawlers’ bar—a bucket of blood—with furnishings and atmosphere befitting a neighborhood dive. And small, too, with seating for only about 75, minus any chairs broken during a fight. Nonetheless, the Merrigans began staging jazz seven nights a week.
The early 1369’s best-known attraction was trumpeter Paul Fontaine, an accomplished 20-year veteran of the jazz scene, both in Boston and on the road. Among the other regulars were throwback bop saxophonist Lester Parker; Elegua, one of the area’s first Latin jazz bands; Ken Pullig’s little big band Decahedron; Search, saxophonist Arni Cheatham’s group; Con Brio with saxophonist Jerry Bergonzi and bassist Bruce Gertz; and vocalist Semenya McCord with saxophonist Stan Strickland. A generation of Boston jazzers paid dues there, with an audience thankfully more interested in listening than throwing punches.
Tenor saxophonist Jay Hoffman was in another band in the regular rotation, Animation. But Animation folded, and its drummer, Grover Mooney, formed his own band, Moon Unit. Mooney, a big bear of a man known for his unpredictable behavior, was part of the 1369 from its earliest days, playing first with saxophonist Len Detlor, then with Animation. (Mooney’s longtime friend, pianist Fred Hersch, likened his playing to that of Elvin Jones.) Listening to Moon Unit were part-time bartender Bob Pollak and club regular Dennis Steiner. They’d talk about how they wished the club could present some of the cutting-edge bands from New York.
The Merrigan brothers sold the 1369 in September 1981 to a trio of investors with ties to the financial industry. They renamed it Springfield’s Jazz Club, and during their two-year tenure, they continued with local jazz nightly. Among their frequent performers were Moon Unit, vocalist Alida Rohr, the fusion group Fly By Night, and Warren Senders’s group Antigravity. Mondays became Latin jazz night, and Tropical, the group lead by bassoonist Janet Grice, often filled that slot. The Fringe, not yet a Boston jazz institution, began a Tuesday-night residency at Springfield’s, although after a few months they moved to a different club.
In autumn 1983, Grover Mooney played matchmaker. He knew Bob Pollak was bored with his day job as a computer consultant, and that Jay Hoffman, then living in New York, was bored playing weddings every weekend. Hoffman mentioned to Mooney how he’d like to own a club like the old 1369. Mooney got Pollak and Hoffman together and stirred the pot.
The Return of the 1369 Jazz Club
A deal came together quickly. Hoffman told me, “Yeah, We bought it. I can’t remember what we actually paid for the place. Maybe $40,000. The club, the booze, the entertainment license, everything. We got the liquor license transferred. Then we were in there! I was definitely overwhelmed at first when we bought the place.”
Claudio Roditi with Victor Mendoza at the 1369, June 1986
Their first move was to invite Dennis Steiner in as a partner. Steiner had the pulse of the current jazz scene, and he seemed to know every musician living in, or passing through, Boston. “Jay and Bob had ideas,” he said, “But I already knew musicians who were playing, who were moving forward—people we could tap into to get something started.”
While the musical direction took shape, though, the new owners had to straighten out the business, too. Theft was a problem. One bartender was selling beer to neighborhood teenagers out of the club’s delivery door. Overly generous bartenders were literally giving away the store. Hoffman asked someone look at the books. The report: “With all the Old Thompson (a whiskey) you’re going through, you should be making a heck of a lot more money.” And it wasn’t just liquor, said Hoffman. “I caught two guys siphoning fuel oil from our tank in the basement. They were selling it.”
Then there was the club’s non-jazz clientele. This was, after all, a well-established neighborhood bar, and although the music had dispersed the evening regulars, the daytime drinkers continued undeterred. They could easily have filled the cast of a reality TV show called “Dive Bar.” Said Pollak: “The day crowd was more than just retirees and blue-collar guys stopping in after work. We had serious alcoholics, and people with medical issues, mental health issues. Oh, and bookies.” They’d tie up the phone, and were told to knock it off. “But Jay, I gotta make a living!” complained one.
The real problems, though, came after midnight. Said Pollak: “There were a lot of fights. Younger guys wanting to start something, we’d see them late. There would be battles at one in the morning.” And it could get ugly. Said Steiner, “Some Somerville guys, maybe with fake IDs, they’d come in late, at about one—we were open until two—and start some mayhem, harass people, do anything. We had a Black group playing one night, Wannetta Jackson’s, and these guys started yelling slurs, racist stuff. I kicked them out, and told them they weren’t coming back.” But that wasn’t the end of it. Said Pollak: “They pulled him out to the street and beat him up. Swollen eye, bruised ribs, maybe a broken rib. Dennis ended up going over to the hospital.”
For years, the Gaslight Pub had been nothing more than a neighborhood bar with an insular clientele, and the arrival of jazz changed it. But the old regulars didn’t go gently. It’s easy to romanticize the clubs of yore as idyllic jazz havens. But even idylls can sometimes be interrupted by moments of intolerance and sudden violence.
A Week in the Life of the 1369
Once the new 1369 got rolling, it developed a set weekly schedule. The jazz jam session happened on Monday, with saxophonist Jay Hoffman presiding and Grover Mooney anchoring the house band. Thursday became blues night, most often with Silas Hubbard Jr and his band, the Hot Ribs. Sunday featured a double-header, with Silas Hubbard leading a blues jam in the afternoon, and drummer Bunny Smith’s group closing at night. Mooney, Hubbard and Smith became part of the fabric of the place.
The 1369 Jazz Club needed blues music to stay financially healthy, and the man who brought the most blues was Mississippi-born singer and bassist Silas Hubbard Jr. He brought a whole new audience to the club on Thursday nights. Then, said Steiner, “We asked Silas if he wanted to run the blues jam. That was a Sunday afternoon gig that eventually ran from one to eight. And I couldn’t believe it, we’d have a line down the street. It was a mob scene.” And he added this: “The blues crowd were drinkers, and the jazz crowd wasn’t, so every Sunday we’d have a good day. It’s how we paid for some of the jazz things that wouldn’t have made money.”
Bunny Smith in about 1987
Joseph “Bunny” Smith, another bandleader with a popular following, led the Sunday night session after the blues crowd cleared out. Smith, who came to Boston in 1971, worked construction by day and played jazz by night. He lead the house band at Wally’s for four years—Hoffman first played with him there in the early seventies. Smith later hosted weekly sessions at the Plough and Stars in Cambridge. He was a good drummer but a better entertainer, a personable crowd pleaser. Sometimes he’d turn the band over to his longtime pianist John Alaimo and table-hop.
The other four nights were strictly for jazz. The club drew on the local musicians at first—singers Wannetta Jackson and Mili Bermejo, drummer Herbie King, and saxophonists Stan Strickland and Jerry Bergonzi. In April 1984 they booked their first out-of-town artist, saxophonist Clifford Jordan, and a steady stream soon followed. It was customary for the New Yorkers to work as singles, with the house supplying the sidemen. And they knew a lot of musicians—the owners always knew who to call. And they could hear even more musicians at the weekly jam session.
Even with music seven nights a week, the club added more in early 1987. They started late-afternoon blues sets with guitarist Butch McClendon (“Blues by Butch”), slide guitarist Ken Holladay, pianist David Maxwell, and Washboard Robbie Phillips. There was Irish jazz on Mondays with violinist Matt Glaser’s group, Smash the Windows. And besides all of this, there was a four-hour ska/rock set on Saturday afternoons with the Shy Five. By the end of 1987, the 1369 was producing an amazing 49 hours a week of music. And though the sounds were diverse, it always came back to jazz.
Musical Riches at the 1369 Jazz Club
There was a wide variety to the 1369’s bookings—flavors included hard hard bop, post-bop, free jazz, fusion, and a spectrum of vocalists. Certainly, there were top-tier artists the club could not afford, and the owners showed little interest in booking established mainstream stylists. But that left an enormous cohort of innovative artists who could play.
So who did play? Rather than produce a mind-numbing number of names, I’ll offer a short list—and perhaps reader comments will supplement it.
- Jazz adventurers—Henry Threadgill, Jim Pepper, George Adams and Don Pullen, Joe Lovano, Julius Hemphill, Dave Holland, Willem Breuker.
- Young lions—Kenny Garrett, Branford Marsalis, Terri Lyne Carrington, Christopher Hollyday, Ricky Ford.
- A hard bop backbone—Barry Harris, Johnny Griffin, Clifford Jordan, Bill Hardman and Junior Cook, George Cables.
- Innovative duos—Andrew Cyrille and Chico Freeman, Hamiet Bluiett and Alan Dawson, Steve Lacy and Roscoe Mitchell, Joanne Brackeen and Cecil McBee.
- Regular employment for local combos—Katy Roberts, Jay Brandford, Wannetta Jackson, Randy Roos, Orange Then Blue, Mordy Ferber, Rachel Nicolazzo (Rachel Z), Rob Scheps; Blue Thursdays with Chris Stovall Brown, the Screaming Coyotes, and Shirley Lewis.
Window card for Jaki Byard at the 1369 Jazz Club, Oct 1985
Building around themes and concepts lead to a number of multi-night series:
- Art Blakey Revisited in May and June 1986, with ex-Messengers Terence Blanchard, Donald Harrison, Wallace Roney, and Mulgrew Miller. The Boston contingent of ex-Messengers—Bill Pierce, Donald Brown, John Ramsay—worked as sidemen.
- A Solo Piano Concert series in October 1986 included Ronnie Mathews, Jaki Byard, Fred Hersch, Kenny Werner, and Marilyn Crispell.
- For a four-night Tribute to Alan Dawson in March 1987, Dawson picked the artists with whom he wanted to play. He chose Barry Harris, Gary Bartz, Kenny Burrell, and the twin tenors of Bill Pierce and Andy McGhee.
- Hammond-B3 Organ Week in April 1987 went all-in on soul jazz, with Trudy Pitts, Don Patterson, Lonnie Smith, Charles Earland, and Jack McDuff.
Consider a three-week period in July 1985. That month, the club featured a Harvie S/Mike Stern/Alan Dawson trio (the Going for It sessions); a Paul Motian/Joe Lovano/Bill Frisell trio; Nick Brignola, Branford Marsalis, and Leni Stern leading quartets; and local groups lead by Rebecca Parris and Rachel Nicolazzo. Then over three weeks in late August and early September, the club came back with the Lee Konitz-Harold Danko quartet; the Katy Roberts trio with John Lockwood and Billy Hart; the Jack McDuff Quartet; a landmark Steve Lacy/Roscoe Mitchell duo; a Joanne Brackeen/Eddie Gomez duo; and the Archie Shepp Quartet.
That was mid-1985, and already by that time the musicians were calling the club, asking for a date to play.
The Magic at Work
Musicians were devoted to the 1369 because of the importance, if not reverence, the owners placed on the music and the musicians. What was right for them generally dictated the way things would go. Jon Garelick, writing in the Phoenix at the time of the club’s closing, quoted Grover Mooney: “With musicians and club owners, it’s always you against them—always. But with Bob and Jay and Dennis, it’s like they’re one of us.”
Added Steiner, “We took very good care of them when they were here, offered them a great playing room and a great audience. Musicians have to think about money, but they also have to think about how they feel and how they’re treated.”
It was a comfortable place to listen to music, too. Garelick quoted a club bartender: “It was a neutral zone for everybody—wackos, serious people, anyone who just wanted to hear some music and not be bothered by anything. The 1369 is the only bar I know where a biker could order a Perrier and get it and it wouldn’t be a joke.”
I’m sure those readers who remember Globe columnist George Frazier will agree if say the 1369 had duende. The Regattabar, in comparison, didn’t (and doesn’t).
Said Pollak: “We didn’t do it to make a lot of money. We never expected it was going to make a lot of money. We did it from our heart.”
And Then It Ended
The 1369 Jazz Club had a formula that worked: committed ownership, the right mix of music, a loyal and knowledgeable clientele. And then it was gone.
It came down to a landlord/tenant dispute. The club never had a lease, and for four frustrating years the owners negotiated with the building owner, Mary Burns, to sign one. Not only did she say no, she evicted them. The club stalled the eviction but couldn’t prevent it, and in July 1988 a judge finally ordered the club to vacate 1369 Cambridge Street on August 15. Said Hoffman: “We wanted to stay. It wasn’t about the rent, we would have paid it. She just didn’t want a bar there anymore. And she didn’t want us there anymore.”
A search for a new location did not pan out, and so the club closed with one last weekend with Grover Mooney, Silas Hubbard Jr, and Bunny Smith on the bandstand as always. But in some ways the owners were ready for it. No matter how rewarding the experience had been, after five years of high-pressure living, Hoffman, Pollak, and Steiner were burned out. They went their separate ways, and none ever operated a bar or nightclub again.
Postscript: 1369, the Movie
Over a three-year period, from 1985 to the club’s closing in 1988, documentary filmmaker Richard Broadman filmed interviews and performances at the 1369 Jazz Club. Broadman spoke with Hoffman, Pollak, and Steiner (who actually produced the film), as well as club stalwarts like Grover Mooney and Bunny Smith, and diverse personalities including Joe Lovano, Andrew Cyrille, and Archie Shepp. The resulting film, A Place for Jazz, made its debut in 1991 at the Brattle Theatre in Cambridge. All judged it a success. But the film became mired in the legal intricacies of licensing, which were still unresolved when Broadman died in January 2000. A Place for Jazz never had an official release, and it remains in limbo still, in 2024. It is our great loss that the work of Broadman, associate director Michael Haggerty, and cameraman John Bishop remains unavailable and unseen.
Another Postscript: How to View the Movie
Bob Pollak emailed to let me know that A Place for Jazz can be viewed online. You can view it on Vimeo, but when I logged into my account on that platform, I couldn’t find it. However if you google for “A Place For Jazz” vimeo — be sure to quote the title — you should find it. Also, you can link to the film from the Facebook page, A Place For Jazz. It might take a minute for the Vimeo link to sync up on Facebook.
Great read. Thanks so much for what you do to bring the history of jazz and also the people who brought it to life, alive. I can see the club in my minds eye by your descriptions.
Thanks Bill, I appreciate the good words. I’ll keep plugging away. Many more stories yet to tell.
I remember playing there with Junior Cook George Schuller and I think Bruce Gertz. I always wanted to find a recording of that. I heard it was on that video
Wonderful article, brought me right back to that crowded, smoke filled joint! I had just moved from NH to Somerville in 84 and I couldn’t believe my luck to be near to a real Jazz club had featured the music I liked best. Many of musicians listed above I was fortunate to see. One of the many memorable night was with an old friend, listening to Roswell Rudd with Beaver Harris on drums, Roswell’s wife singing a few songs…I forget who was on bass. During the second set, a voice from behind me said, “I always knew I see you in a jazz club.” I turned to see my roommate from 67 whom I lost contact with. Back then on Soden Street in Cambridge, he was part of my small, close-net group of friends who all loved jazz. What a happy reunion in the 1369.
I saw Thurman Barker recently with Makanda Project and we reminisced about 1369 and Charlie’s Tap. The profusion of jazz in Cambridge/Somerville didn’t last long enough but how lucky we were it happened.
Thanks, Gerard. And I agree, we were lucky to have that Cambridge scene in the 80s. The only time in the area that could compare to it was Boston in the 1950s. We’re all hoping for another big bang.
Thanks for this. I have so many great memories of hearing and playing music in that place. One night I was playing with Rachel Z (Nicolazzo), Bruno Råberg, and Ed Uribe and I mentioned to the 3 owners that I was sorry to miss one of my heroes, tenor saxophonist Dewey Redman, who was playing at Charlie’s Tap a mile away that night. Bobby said he was going over there to catch a set, and I said “Tell Dewey hi from the guy who is always asking him if he’s ever going to play alto again” (as he did on one track of his “Ear of the Behearer” album). Sometime about an hour later, I was on stage playing Bob Moses’s tune “Autumn Liebs” with my eyes closed and when I ended my solo, another alto started playing. Dewey had come to 1369 on his break, brought his *alto*, played an amazing solo, shook my hand, and left to go back to his gig. The rest of the band were looking at me like “Was that who I think it was?” Thanks, 1369!
And thanks for sharing the story, Allan. One for the books. So yeah, thanks, 1369.
I was at Charlie’s that night/weekend, recording a set of Dewey’s on a walkman. I think Charley Persip was on drums. What a great date, but never knew he slipped out to play alto with you. As Paul Harvey used to say, “And now, the rest of the story.”
It was a great room to play in. When Antigravity was active, we were there often, and got up to some amazing hijinks. Once I was playing a bass solo with some extended techniques, and a drunk in the front row called out, “aw, gimme a break, man!”
Without missing a beat, the other members of the band turned “aw, gimme a break, man!” into a little chant which they kept up for the rest of my solo. At least that’s how I remember it (though as they say about the sixties, “if you can remember it, you weren’t there.”).
Did you ever write a tune titled “Aw, gimme a break, man”?
there were a couple showings of the film in the last year or so, @ 1369 coffeehouse & at Zuzus, put on by Alex Lemski and the Creative Music Series
Wonderful as always Prof. Vacca!
Adding to the Alan Dawson list of performances (though I might be wrong on the timing but I believe it was 1987) was an incredible night when he played duo with Hamiet Bluiett. Just drumset and baritone sax for two sets. And with their combined artistry bass and piano didn’t feel missed at all. Incredible.
And thank you, Prof Harris. Your duo gig was on Mar 4, 1987. I’ll bet AD looked forward to the challenge of it, given that Bluiett could play at any location on the jazz map. Dawson played many, many gigs at the 1369.
Thanks for this. I remember countless great shows and the ‘right” vibe. My most memorable night was a night I couldn’t afford the door admission(cash poor that week) for a Steve Lacy show. It was raining. I had no choice but to lean against the back alley door and hear a glorious set. Fantastic memories, every one of them.
Thanks Jeff. I think I would have tried begging. For Steve Lacy? Definitely, begging.
Great memories of a place so important to the development of many musicians. Not mentioned was the amazing regular gigs of the D’Sharpe quintet led by drummer/composer D’Sharpe featuring Gary Valente, Bill Frisell, Wayne Krantz, and John Lockwood. An Era in musical individuality and creativity that is not since repeated
I was once told that D Sharpe played a drum solo with a pair of baguettes. Don’t know if it was at the 1369, though. I do know that the club had a massive tribute concert at the time of his death. He was a favorite there.
I have recordings of those gigs. Very early Bill Frisell in a room full of people discovering him via word of mouth.
I digitized those cassettes and gave them to Bill. It was in the 1369 one night when Bill was playing that he got the call and his face turned inconsoleably dark. “Bill. Are you OK?” “D Sharpe just died. AIDs from a bad transfusion”
A circle closed that night.
I had a portable recording rig and I practically lived there, recording every show I was in attendance. One of these, with Alan Dawson, Mike Stern and Harvie Swartz has been released on CD. A wall of cassettes in my room marks a living document of the amazing music that happened there. It was truly a historical birthplace of jazz.
Bill Frisell’s first quartet performanc
Steve Lacy solo Monk
Lee Konitz solo Parker tribute when partner Harold Danko was stuck on the train from NY
Mick Goodrick with Charlie Haden
SOOOO much more.
What a privilege to have been and recorded the time spent in that space.
The Going for It album is really good. (Readers, check out a review here.) I’d like to know more about that stash of tapes, it sounds like the Fort Knox of Boston jazz. I heard Konitz play that night. It was Aug 29, Bird’s birthday. Thanks for dropping by.
So great to read all this Richard really well done! I practically lived in that club with the moon unit and played alongside many of the other folks you’ve mentioned there. It was by far the best vibe to play music in, you really felt people were listening and feeling the music, and never felt like you were putting on a show, you always just felt like you were making music and trying to make it as good as you could make it! Blessed to have had all the experiences there that I did!
Thanks Brad, and thanks also for mentioning that vibe from a musician’s point of view. We listeners appreciated the effort.
Great and truthful story of what went on and the people that lived it.
Still miss those days and all the friends I made.
Great comment also Chris.
Thanks PJ. And I know what you mean about missing those good days–that’s one of the reasons I write about them.
Excellent. A couple of things-I want to note that Bunny Smith ran the Sunday afternoon jams at Wally’s in the early 70’s. I should know. He ran me out of there once. Also, I taped a session at the 1369 with Bob Dorough, Roswell Rudd and Beaver Harris.
Thanks Steve. Bunny… I talked to a guy who was Bunny’s landlord on Harvard St in Cambridge for a while… an absolute character. Dorough with Rudd and Harris? That I’d like to hear.
As a Bunny addendum. The owners decided to offer a cheap soul food dinner/brunch on Sundays at the Blues Jam. Initially Bunny was doing the cooking and was kicked out of several peoples kitchens for what I always assumed was a very messy aftermath post the soul food dinner prep. It was quite a bargain for $3.00-Ribs, Greens and Candied Sweets as Earring George Mayweather (Silas’ older harmonica playing brother) used to announce it!
Correction to the Chris Stovall Brown comment regarding the Soul Food Brunch.
It was Bob, not Bunny, who prepared the Soul Food Brunch every Sunday. It was also Bob who got kicked out of one apartment due to the lingering odor of collard greens in the common areas. Bunny served as a culinary consultant for some of the soul food recipes (ribs, hoppin johns, collard greens). He would later confide that some of the recipes were missing what he regarded as his secret ingredients. Bob did not confide to Bunny that he didn’t rely on his recipes.
Addendum to Bob Pollak’s addendum to my Soul Food addendum.
Bobby, I sit corrected! Best, CSB
Chris,
You are not mistaken that Bunny prepared the soul food brunch. He and I destroyed his kitchen for three consecutive weeks until he cried uncle. After that, it was on me.
Excellent and well-researched piece about an important and not forgotten jazz institution. Many great memories and fabulous music. Sad ending but that is more often then not the case.
Thanks Shelley. A lot of good singers worked there. Was wondering if you heard any of them, or if you sang there yourself.
I was a serious listener but not a performer in that time period – not until the 1990s. Heard Semenya for sure but mostly recall hearing instrumentalist since singers were few and far between in clubs at that time. Yup.
Good point. Seems to me that there were more singers in the less risky rooms, like the Regattabar and the Starlight Roof. And Al Vega hosted his Singers Showcase every weekend out at the Airport Hilton for years. There were singers with him who were good, very good, and not so good.
Great story – I certainly hope that the 1369 doc-film can eventually come to fruition; would love to see it !
I love reading about Jazz in Boston — even though I live in North Carolina I would travel through Boston for work & over the past 20 years saw some good bands at Wally’s, Ryles, and Beehive.
Thanks Bill. Yeah, the documentary… the owners have been unable to shake it loose, and not for lack of trying.
MUCH appreciated!
Regrettably, I hadn’t heard of this place before. While it was extant I was frequently coming down to Boston from Bangor to haunt the Harvard Coop and Stereo Jack’s for jazz recordings. (This, of course, was pre-Amazon. Pre Tower’s, too. Browsing in such s hops provided no only the pleasure of the Hunt, but alsounearthed obscure surprises.)
Enjoyed your BOSTON JAZZ CHRONICLES muchly. The town’s history intersects with the lives of Maine Jazz Artists, including Don Stratton, who was a dear friend.
–Rich Tozier
Thanks for the good words, Rich. Wouldn’t be surprised if we met at Stereo Jacks. And Don Stratton! He was an enormous help to me when it came to learning about Boston in the late 40s/early 50s. I always looked forward to visiting him in Augusta.
Richard, as usual your writing holds to a high bar and is much appreciated! I was fortunate enough to be the house blues guitarist along with Silas Jr’s Hot Ribs. Though I quit a few times and was fired just as many times, I played the very first and last Thursday Blues shows as well as the last Blues jam in August of 1988! I went to the auction either the next day or Tuesday after and purchased a quartet of chairs, the PA head (which included a live unreleased tape of JackMcDuff (from organ week!) and the clock off the wall! Very well balanced story and I appreciate that you mention the blues shows were funding a lot of the jazz shows! Special mentions from me would include former Harvard radio jazz DJ Michael Haggerty’s role in bringing in Silas and the blues in the first place and having comedian Jimmy Tingle as an opening act one night for the blues Thursday! A lot of great memories there would also have to include that I met my wife, Madeleine Hall, there when after her waitress shift up the street, drove by on her bike, heard some blues coming out of the door and got up and sang an obscure Jimmy Reed song! Met many great musicians there and sat 3 feet away from Bill Frisell during the aforementioned trio with Joe Lovano & Paul Motian! Finally the trio of owners always treated us musicians with respect and gave birth to a lot of great memories.
Keep on keepin’ on,
Chris Stovall Brown
Thanks for the wonderful comments, Chris, and nothing can top the story of your getting knocked out by a walk-on stepping up to sing Jimmy Reed. And you keep on your own self!